


Quarantined Together

by Feriku



Series: Together [1]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Boredom, Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Only One Bed, Quarantine, Secrets, Sexual Tension, obligatory quarantine fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feriku/pseuds/Feriku
Summary: When Wylan and Jesper are quarantined together, they struggle to get along and find ways to pass the time, even as the close proximity stirs feelings neither of them is ready to admit.(Set vaguely during Six of Crows, after Jesper knows who Wylan is but before he knows his secret.)
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck
Series: Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922224
Comments: 233
Kudos: 467





	1. Day 1

Wylan’s heart raced as he leaned against the wall of the one-room shack they’d taken cover in after finishing the job and sank to the floor to rest. Beside him, Jesper grinned as though this was all part of a normal day’s work. For him, maybe it was.

“We should be good now, merchling. Just need to wait here until the heat dies down, and then we can report back.”

“Right.” Wylan wasn’t entirely comfortable helping Jesper carry out illegal activities for Kaz, but he supposed his was part of his life now too. At least they hadn’t hurt anyone—just recon and surveillance.

And at least he’d done his part to help.

Ever since he learned Kaz considered him more valuable as a hostage than a demo expert, the knowledge had haunted him, because he wouldn’t be nearly as good a hostage as everyone thought. Since he’d fail even at _that_ , he was desperate to carry his weight in other matters.

Jesper strolled to the window and glanced out. Then he stiffened. “Stadwatch!”

“What?” Wylan scrambled to his feet.

“It’s a patrol. They’re coming right this way.” Jesper’s casual attitude was gone, his words clipped. “Looks like they’re checking each house. We don’t have much time.”

“What happened to ‘we should be good now’?”

“Apparently I was wrong.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Just give me a minute.” The tall sharpshooter turned away from the window and flashed Wylan a grin. “I’ll think of something.”

Sure he would. Like anything in this room could help them. It contained only a bed and a few other sticks of furniture, all long since abandoned. No back door, nowhere to hide. Wylan ran his hands through his hair as the awful possibilities ran through his mind. Could they run? His stomach lurched. Would they be forced into a shootout?

“Unbutton your shirt,” Jesper said.

Wylan stared at him. “Sorry, what?”

“We’ll pretend to be lovers.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Think about it, merchling, what better excuse can we give for why we’re hiding in an abandoned shack than a tryst? Better do something about your hair, too. Try to look disheveled.”

He blushed scarlet, but obediently mussed up his hair as he averted his gaze from Jesper unbuttoning—no, actually _taking off_ his own shirt.

“Your buttons, merchling?”

“Is that really necessary?” Wylan asked, trying to look everywhere but at the lean muscles the other boy had bared.

Jesper smirked. “Up to you. You could take off your pants instead.”

Wylan undid the first three buttons of his shirt.

The sharpshooter’s gaze lingered on his exposed skin for a moment, and his smirk deepened.

With a yelp, Wylan turned around. “Stop that!”

“Oh, that’s perfect—blushing, flustered, they’ll absolutely believe they interrupted us making sweet, sweet love. What position do you think we were in?”

“You’re awful,” he said under his breath.

Nevertheless, he sat on the dusty bed and awkwardly leaned against the pillows in an attempt to mimic the position he might be in if he was about to be kissed or… or whatever.

A sharp rapping at the door banished his embarrassment with a wave of anxiety. His heart pounded.

After a moment with no response, the knocking came again, harder.

“Go away!” Jesper shouted. “We’re busy!”

How was it that even with nothing actually happening inside the room, he somehow gave his annoyed shout an edge of husky suggestiveness? Wylan covered his face.

“Stadwatch! Open up!”

Jesper paused for a long moment—presumably to give them enough time to put some clothes on in their imaginary scenario—and then walked to the door. He flung it open and leaned against the frame, so seductive without his shirt on that Wylan felt a brief twinge of frustration that he _hadn’t_ been in his arms a moment ago.

Wait, no, why would he even think about something like that? His cheeks flamed anew as he tried to get his mind on absolutely anything else.

The stadwatch officer’s face was stern. “Have you been into town today?”

“Earlier, yes,” Jesper said.

“There’s been a report of plague. Everyone who went into town is quarantined for the next two weeks.”

Wylan sat straight up. “Quarantined? You mean we can’t leave?”

“That’s right.”

“But we can’t stay here!”

“This isn’t voluntary.” The officer glanced over the two of them and then around at the abandoned shack. “News of the quarantine will spread soon enough. You’ll be able to make your excuses without needing to give extra details.”

Wylan blushed again as he realized the natural assumption was indeed that he and Jesper met up in secrecy.

“Food will be brought for you in the morning. You’ll need to stay here either for two weeks, or until one of you starts showing symptoms. This quarantine _will_ be enforced.”

Then he shut the door, and they were alone.

“Well.” Jesper rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess they weren’t looking for us after all.”

“I can’t believe we’re quarantined,” Wylan said. Together, too. If they hadn’t gone with that cover story, maybe they would have been given separate rooms—or at least separate beds. “Kaz is going to kill us.”

“He’ll find out about the quarantine.”

“Sure.”

Jesper sighed. “All right, I’ll get us out of here.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve broken out of more secure places than this, merchling.”

Wylan stared at him. “We can’t break quarantine.”

Jesper grinned. “Oho, so now you don’t want to leave?”

“It’s important!”

“Sure it is, merchling, sure it is. You’re just dying for an excuse to spend two weeks all alone with me.”

“You know it’s important if I’m willing to risk that,” Wylan said.

He expected another jab in return, but instead the other boy’s smile faltered and he looked away. “Sorry being alone with me is such a _risk._ ”

Wylan opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He’d only wanted to continue their… teasing? Flirting? Banter? Whatever it was supposed to be, he’d been trying to play along, but apparently Jesper had taken his words in a very different way.

Why had he even bothered? It wasn’t like Jesper was serious, and Wylan didn’t have the skill with those sort of games to ever keep up with him.

He abruptly realized his shirt was still unbuttoned, and he redid the buttons with trembling fingers. “I didn’t—”

“Just forget it,” Jesper said.

Wylan sighed. “If we’re going to be stuck with each other for two weeks, we should try to get along.”

“Right.”

Despite his apparent agreement, Jesper sounded like being quarantined with him was the last thing in the world he wanted. Wylan should have expected that. No one would want to be stuck with him. Not even his own father.

“I suppose you’ll want me to sleep on the floor,” Jesper said, “so you won’t have the _danger_ of me being in the same bed as you.”

The statement could have easily been said in a teasing way, but bitterness filled it instead. “I didn’t mean it like that,” Wylan said quietly.

It was time for a comment like, “Oh, so you do want to share?” that Wylan could deny, but instead Jesper just arched one eyebrow and said nothing.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Wylan said with a sigh.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want you to strain your delicate merchling body,” Jesper said, a sharper edge to his sarcasm than usual.

These two weeks were going to be a nightmare.


	2. Day 2

Guilt prickled Jesper when he woke up the next morning. For one thing, he was sleeping in the bed, which while threadbare and lumpy had to be more comfortable than the floor where Wylan had curled up against the wall. After their argument, the other boy had dug in his heels and adamantly insisted on taking the floor, like he thought he had something to prove.

Maybe he did. Being called a delicate merchling probably played into his decision.

And maybe he _had_ proved something _._ His fortitude was more than Jesper expected.

Jesper rolled onto his back to stare up at the low ceiling. And yes, some of his guilt came from what started the argument. Maybe he’d pushed too hard with his flirting and made Wylan uncomfortable. In a situation where they literally couldn’t leave each other’s company, maybe he’d gone too far, even if it did hurt to hear him say staying together was a risk.

To Wylan, all of them probably came across as scary criminals who might hurt him at a moment’s notice. Stupid merchling should never have run off to the Barrel. He wasn’t cut out for it. He had a comfortable home he could go back to. What would it take—an apology? He belonged with Van Eck and proper society, not with the Dregs.

“Good morning.”

The soft greeting made Jesper jump, and he sat up to see Wylan climbing to his feet. The smaller boy winced. He looked stiff and sore from sleeping on the floor all night long.

A thousand comments ran through Jesper’s mind—ranging from an offer to rub his shoulders to innuendo about being stiff—but then he remembered Wylan’s apparent discomfort with being alone together and bit all his suggestive comments back for a change.

“We can alternate,” he said instead. “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

“Okay.”

Wylan seemed downcast. Was he still trying to prove something? Maybe he was just unhappy with this whole rotten—

He was abruptly right in front of Jesper, on the bed, far too close. He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, and Jesper pulled away from the unexpected contact in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if you have a fever,” Wylan said. “You don’t, but we probably should check every day, just to be safe.”

He withdrew his hand, but the lingering warmth from his soft touch remained. It bothered Jesper more than he wanted to admit. To hide it, he laughed and leaned forward with a smirk. “How can you even tell, when I’m so hot to start with?”

“I factor in a few extra degrees for that,” Wylan said without missing a beat.

Jesper snorted. So Wylan was willing to play along, huh? Maybe their argument last night hadn’t been as damaging as he thought. He reached out and pressed his own hand against Wylan’s forehead. A flush rose to the merchling’s cheeks, but his temperature felt normal.

“You’re fine too,” Jesper said.

The other boy’s blush deepened.

Oh for—“I meant you don’t have a fever, I wasn’t saying you’re _fine._ ” Jesper paused. “You are, though.”

“They said food would be brought for us,” Wylan said. “We should see if it’s here yet.”

His cheeks remained pink as they walked to the door. Good to know things were back to normal.

Outside, they found packs of dried meat and dry food, along with a supply of water. Jesper’s heart sank. It looked like someone had carefully prepared enough rations to last them two weeks, rather than the regular morning deliveries he’d been hoping for. While Wylan carried the bundles inside, he looked up and down the street.

The stadwatch patrolled everywhere. They were serious about enforcing this quarantine.

“Saints…” He retreated inside and let the door swing shut.

Wylan had all of their supplies laid out in the center of the room. He’d already divided them into 14 piles and was starting to split each pile into two.

“What are you doing?” Jesper asked.

“Figuring out our rations for each day.”

“This is the second day. We don’t need fourteen.”

“It didn’t start yesterday morning,” Wylan said. “They might make us wait an extra day to make sure we’ve been quarantined for the full two weeks.”

Great. “Why have you frontloaded it with bread?”

“Bread will go bad faster. It probably won’t last past the first week.”

“You’re too delicate for stale bread?”

Wylan fixed him with a serious look. “Old bread could become moldy, and then we’d get sick from eating it.” He continued to divide up the piles.

Everything he said made logical sense, and it irked Jesper that this innocent, sheltered merchling seemed better-prepared for a quarantine than he was. If Jesper was on his own, he’d probably have eaten whenever he got hungry and run out of food long before the end, and he wouldn’t have even considered that the bread had to go quicker than the rest.

He scanned the piles again and frowned. “You’re splitting each day’s rations into two piles because there are two of us?”

“Yes.”

“They aren’t even. One pile is bigger than the other.”

“You’re taller and more active than I am,” Wylan said, “You probably need more food.”

Oh, no way. “Make them even, merchling.” Jesper folded his arms. “I don’t need a fainting merchling on my hands.”

Wylan rolled his eyes, but adjusted the piles accordingly.

It was infuriating that the only legitimate criticism of Wylan’s behavior so far was that he’d intended to give him more food and take less for himself. Jesper scowled as the other boy placed the divided rations along the far wall.

Wait, why was he even nitpicking Wylan’s attempts to help? What did it matter?

He grumbled under his breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. He felt out of his depth, and it wasn’t fair to take out his frustration on a kid who _by rights shouldn’t be more prepared for this than he was._

“What’s wrong?” Wylan asked.

“Nothing.”

“We’ll get by,” he said, his tone annoyingly calm. “We probably aren’t sick, so all we have to do is put up with the next two weeks.”

He sounded so _reasonable._

“Shouldn’t you be hysterical?” Jesper asked.

“What?”

“Hysterical. Or outraged. However merchers act when they’ve been affronted. Shouldn’t you be shouting about your rights and how no one can keep you locked up like this?”

Wylan’s eyebrows twitched. “Is that what you’d like to do, Jesper?”

Of course not. But if Wylan behaved like a good entitled merchling should, then Jesper could feel righteously indignant about being stuck with him.

“It’s a quarantine.” With a shrug, Wylan sat down in one of the room’s few chairs. “I know it’s serious.”

Jesper sighed and rubbed his head. He was looking for excuses to justify snapping at Wylan so he wouldn’t feel guilty anymore, and that wasn’t a good way to start out two weeks of each other’s company.

“We’ll be fine,” Wylan said.

Fine. If _he_ could tolerate this, then Jesper would find a way to suffer through it too. He would not be outdone by a spoiled little merchling.

His gaze went again to the carefully divided rations. His skin still tingled slightly from where Wylan had checked him for fever. All things considered, maybe Wylan Van Eck wasn’t such a bad person to be quarantined with.


	3. Day 3

Wylan bit his lip as he watched Jesper pace.

In the morning, he’d checked his forehead again and he still had no fever, but Wylan was worried about him nevertheless. Jesper wasn’t his usual outgoing, flirtatious self today, and he kept fidgeting and walking around as if looking for a way to escape.

Being quarantined might be more of a struggle for him. Wylan could sit quietly for hours—and often had, at home, to avoid disturbing his father—but Jesper was constantly in motion and searching for thrills. He wouldn’t adapt easily to staying in a single room.

Then there was… the other problem.

It was always difficult to judge how much of what Jesper said was serious and how much was joking, but he at least gave the impression that he was active in other ways, too. If he was used to regular physical intimacy, the lack of it might start to wear on him after a while.

Not that Wylan could ask. Jesper would probably misinterpret it again and think he was uncomfortable rather than genuinely concerned. Wylan watched Jesper pace the length of the room. There had to be something he could do to help.

“Quit it,” Jesper said. “You’re staring at me like I’m a problem to be solved.”

The fact that he didn’t tease Wylan for staring spoke more to his restlessness than anything else could. “I’m trying to think of a way we can occupy ourselves while we wait,” Wylan said.

Jesper snorted. “Good luck with that.”

They couldn’t spend the entire two weeks staring at the walls. Wylan got up. While the shack only had a single room, they hadn’t exactly scoured it to see if anything had been left behind by its one-time residents. A small cabinet in the corner held some promise.

Unfortunately, all he found inside was some paper, a pen, and a small supply of ink.

Good enough. He picked up a few sheets, set the rest on the table, and sat down. “Can I draw a picture of you?”

That actually stopped Jesper’s pacing. “Wait, what?”

“I want to draw you,” Wylan said. “It’ll help pass the time.” And hopefully bridge some of the gap between them.

A slow smile spread across Jesper’s face. “Think I’m a good model for art, huh?”

Wylan blushed. “Um…”

The other boy looked around, then bounded over to the bed. He lounged back against the pillows with his hands behind his head and smirked. “How’s this?”

At least the idea had restored his spirits, if nothing else.

“That’s fine,” Wylan said.

“You just want to have a picture of me in bed.” Jesper winked. “You can have the real thing any time you ask.”

Wylan rolled his eyes and started to sketch. Insinuations aside, Jesper’s chosen pose actually was pretty good for aesthetics. He made a striking figure sprawled on the bed like that, and it should be an attractive portrait. Art was one of the few things that genuinely gave Wylan joy. Bringing art to life on the page made him think that maybe he really wasn’t useless.

Not that this was the sorts of skill someone like Jesper would ever find useful or worthwhile. Wylan’s hand stilled for a moment, but he forced himself to keep working.

It could help Jesper through quarantine. That had to count for something… right?

“Should I take off my clothes?” Jesper asked.

Wylan lifted his head sharply. “What? No!”

“I thought all artists had models pose naked for them.”

“This isn’t that sort of picture.”

“Have you ever drawn a naked model before?”

“ _No._ ”

“Sounds to me like you should expand your skills.”

Wylan pointed the pen at him. “My skills are not ready to be expanded in that direction yet, thank you very much.”

“Yet, huh?”

His ears burned and he focused on the sketch. It wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed his mind in the past that if he really wanted to develop as an artist, he might eventually seek to draw more complicated subjects. Drawing someone nude would give him a better understanding of human anatomy, too.

On the other hand, he’d be a blushing mess throughout the entire thing, and it felt wrong to draw someone unclothed if he couldn’t be completely objective about it.

Although Jesper might not mind…

Well, it didn’t matter. Any hopes he had about actually becoming an artist got thrown over the side of a ship when he jumped to escape his would-be killers. He’d never be an artist in the Barrel. It was a useless skill to have.

Useless.

Just like him.

An artist in the Barrel was as useless as a mercher’s son who couldn’t read.

“Merchling?”

Wylan jumped and realized he’d frozen up entirely. “Sorry!”

“Did I do something wrong?” Jesper asked.

“No, you’re fine. I was just…” Wallowing in self-pity and sulking over what a useless person he was. “…trying to find the best way to capture the angles of your face.”

“You can’t go wrong with this face,” Jesper said.

Wylan grinned and started sketching again. “But it wouldn’t be fair for me to draw it poorly and not do you justice.”

“Not your fault, merchling—a drawing will never be as gorgeous as the real deal.”

“I can try.”

The familiar banter helped him settle down again, and soon he was absorbed in his work. Jesper really did make an excellent model, and even if he’d probably say the whole endeavor was pointless, Wylan put his heart and soul into accurately transferring the other boy’s likeness to paper.

At last, it was complete.

“I’m done,” Wylan said. “You don’t have to pose anymore.”

Jesper got up and stretched, then crossed the room at an alarming pace to join Wylan at the table. “Well? Can I see?”

Handing over his art for someone else to look at was nerve-wracking, but there was no avoiding it. Cheeks on fire, he shyly held out the picture.

Jesper accepted it and whistled. “I look even better on paper than I do in person!”

Wylan cracked up laughing. “How can anyone be so egocentric?”

“This has nothing to do with my ego,” Jesper said with a smirk. “It means that apparently _you_ think I look _this_ good.”

“I drew you as accurately as I could,” Wylan said. “You’re the one staring at it and talking about how good-looking you are.”

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” Jesper paused. “So… can I keep it?”

Wylan blinked. “Um, sure, if you want.”

He seemed to like it. A warm feeling filled Wylan as he watched the other boy admiring his art, but he shook the sensation away. He shouldn’t read too much into this. Jesper probably only liked it because it was a picture of him.

To distract himself, Wylan grabbed another sheet of paper and started to sketch from memory. He’d draw a few things he’d seen around Ketterdam to pass the time. After all, they had a long two weeks ahead of them, and this was only the third day.

Jesper started pacing again.


	4. Day 4

By the next afternoon, Jesper was out of patience. He was sick of being stuck in one room. He was sick of having nothing to do except stare at the ceiling. He was sick of having no one for company except Wylan.

Being an art model had been an amusing diversion, but it wouldn’t be as much fun a second time. There were only so many jokes he could come up with to fluster Wylan while he sketched—although he hadn’t been exaggerating about how flattered he was by the portrait—and another round would require sitting still for a long period of time. Not much better than what he was currently doing.

He’d cleaned his revolvers. Three times.

He’d cleaned all the bullets, too.

Then he’d cleaned his spare ammo as well. If he needed to shoot anyone, it would be the cleanest gunshot wound Ketterdam had ever seen.

As much as he loved his guns, cleaning them a fourth time sounded like a good path to insanity.

Jesper drummed his fingers against his leg. He needed to move. He needed to go places. He needed to play a hand of cards or spin Makker’s Wheel. He needed to check in on Kaz and the others, make sure everyone was okay.

All of these things were surging up in him like a burning need, an itch, an obsession, getting worse the longer he went without them. The one distraction he’d found was to think about kissing Wylan, but even though he and the cute merchling were alone in tight quarters for the foreseeable future, those thoughts were starting to seem dangerous. Wylan didn’t want that. Wylan didn’t want _him_.

Since water seemed to be the one thing that would be resupplied, they’d made a vain attempt earlier to wash up. Wylan had been so clearly uncomfortable that Jesper didn’t even have the heart to tease him.

Saints, he was going crazy.

Wylan was fun to watch, though. He was sketching again, deep in concentration. Brow furrowed, gaze focused, the pink tip of his tongue creeping out slightly as his slender fingers did their work…

Oh, Jesper needed to get out of there. He stood up and headed for the door.

Wylan lifted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m done,” Jesper said.

The chair clattered as Wylan jumped to his feet. “You can’t—it’s only been four days!”

“That’s exactly why I’m getting out of here,” Jesper said. “Four days and I’m already going crazy. Ten more of this will kill me.”

Wylan moved faster than he expected. They reached the door at the same time. “You can’t break quarantine, Jesper.”

“I won’t force you to go with me, merchling.” Of course he’d object, rule-abiding as he was. “And I’ll make your excuses to Kaz, make sure he doesn’t give you a hard time. Don’t worry.”

As he took a step toward the door, Wylan did too. “We’re not supposed to leave.”

“I’ll be fine.” Jesper drew his revolvers and twirled them to emphasize his point. “No one will get in my way, and I’ll avoid all the patrols until I’m safely out of the quarantine zone.”

“You think that makes it okay?” Wylan sounded incredulous.

Oh, he was really going to be stubborn about this, wasn’t he? “I doubt they kept track of us, and even if they did, they’ll believe you when they say you couldn’t stop me from leaving. You won’t be in any trouble.”

Wylan took another step, which placed him firmly between Jesper and the door. “Jesper, this is serious. We’re quarantined to protect other people, just in case we’re infected.”

“Which we _aren’t_.”

“You don’t know that for sure. You can’t go out there and put innocent people in danger. It’s not right!”

Jesper stared at him, stunned that Wylan Van Eck of all people was standing in his way. The smaller boy stood defiantly in front of the door, arms outstretched, like he thought he could physically stop Jesper from leaving.

It was laughable. All he had to was push Wylan aside and walk out. It would barely take any effort.

From the look on Wylan’s face, he knew that. He didn’t know how to fight. He didn’t have the strength to overpower Jesper. He had to realize his effort at blocking the door was ultimately meaningless. Yet he didn’t look afraid… just downcast. Sad.

And he didn’t move. He knew it was useless, but he refused to step aside.

Jesper threw his hands in the air and stalked back across the room. “Fine, whatever. I’ll stay.”

Wylan stood there a moment longer, then returned to the table. He resumed work on his sketch, although he seemed a little shaken.

Man… why did he have to be so… difficult to hate? Jesper had to admire the way he stood his ground.

Worst of all, he was right. Breaking quarantine was a bad idea, and he was right to try to stop him. Poor merchling. Jesper was losing his mind from being cooped up, but it had to be rough for Wylan to be stuck with a mess like him.

“Bet you wish you hadn’t run away now,” he said.

Wylan looked up. “Huh?”

“From home. You must wish you never came to the Barrel.”

“I doubt the quarantine is confined to this one area,” he said.

“No, but here you are, stuck in a one-room shack with me. If you hadn’t run away, you’d be safely quarantined in your luxurious mercher mansion right now, probably barely aware anything had changed.”

The other boy stared at him for a moment. He didn’t say anything.

Jesper shifted uncomfortably as the silence stretched on. “So… sorry.”

When Wylan finally responded, his voice was soft. “I don’t mind being quarantined with you.”

Huh? He didn’t?

His blue eyes were earnest, his smile sincere. “Besides, if I hadn’t gone with you on this job, you might be stuck here all alone without me to help.”

“I’d probably have gone through all the food by now,” Jesper said with a laugh, “even assuming I didn’t bolt that first day.”

“See?” Wylan said. “It all worked out for the best.”

He sounded like he honestly meant it, too.

Jesper sighed and got out his revolvers. Might as well start on cleaning number 4.


	5. Day 5

Wylan spread out several sheets of paper on the table and carefully divided each one into equal-sized rectangles. Then he counted them to make sure he had the number right. This would take a lot of paper, but it would be worthwhile if it worked.

A voice in the back of his mind whispered that this was an _idiotic_ idea that only a moron like him could come up with, but he ignored it.

Even if it was stupid… at least it gave him something to do. He could pretend it was all a hobby for his own amusement if Jesper really disliked the idea. He numbered the rectangles.

Then he cast an anxious glance at where Jesper lay on the floor from the previous night, either asleep or pretending to be. That seemed to be his new coping mechanism—sleep for as much of the day as he could. He’d mumbled something incoherent in response to Wylan’s greeting and fever check in the morning, then waved him away and rolled over.

Wylan couldn’t stop thinking about what Jesper had said the previous day. He seemed to think it was hard for Wylan to be quarantined with him, which wasn’t true at all. Jesper was gentle and funny. Sure, their confrontation at the door had been tense, but he was normally someone Wylan could feel safe with. Certainly safer than if he was trapped at home with his father.

Jesper had even backed down yesterday instead of forcing his way past. He had a good heart. He was just struggling.

After one last concerned glance at the probably-not-really-sleeping sharpshooter, Wylan finished up the numbering and began to draw. As usual, his art absorbed him, and even though some of it was nearly mindless in its repetitive nature, he was far from the world when sudden movement in the corner of his vision made him jump.

“Morning.” Jesper stretched and grabbed a portion of his rations. “Ready for another exciting day of staring at the walls?”

Wylan’s heart rate slowed again, and he gave himself a shake. He probably shouldn’t let himself get so distracted that he stopped being aware of his surroundings. In his new life, that was dangerous.

Not when it was just him and Jesper, though. Jesper might give him a scare and would probably tease him about it mercilessly afterwards, but he wasn’t in any real danger.

“Good morning to you too,” Wylan said, trying not to dwell on the strangely appealing prospect of Jesper sneaking up on him from behind.

“Drawing again? What is it today?”

He hesitated. “Um…”

That, of course, was the wrong thing to do. Jesper shoved the rest of his bread in his mouth and hurried over to the table, more intrigued by Wylan’s reticence than he probably ever would have been otherwise. “Is it another picture of me? Is it something dirty? Is it a dirty picture of me?”

Wylan flipped over the pages to hide them. “It’s nothing like that!”

Jesper smirked. “Then why can’t I see?”

“Well, um…”

Because it was stupid, such a stupid idea, and he didn’t want Jesper to think he was a moron.

Except the idea required telling him eventually, which was probably the stupidest part of the plan. Bad enough he had to come up with a stupid idea without it being the sort of stupid idea he had to tell someone else about.

Jesper ran his fingers teasingly over the back of Wylan’s hands. “Keeping secrets, merchling?”

“I’m making a deck of cards!” he blurted.

“Wait, you’re _what_?”

His face was on fire. He stared down at the table. “I know you like to gamble, and it would give us something to do, and I figured you didn’t have a deck of cards on you or you’d have gotten it out by now, so I just thought maybe if I made one…” But it was such a stupid idea, and he was a moron for thinking of it.

“You’re making a deck of cards for me?” Jesper turned over the pages, revealing the partly-drawn deck. “These are incredible!”

Startled, Wylan blinked up at him. “You… think it’s a good idea?”

“Yes! It’s not like a real deck, since it’s just paper, but it’ll do in a pinch. I love the way you’ve drawn the face cards, too.” Jesper paused. “You, uh, know face cards are supposed to have letters on them, right?”

“O-Of course I know that, I just didn’t get that far yet.” Wylan cleared his throat. “Why don’t you do that part?”

“Me?”

“Y-Yeah, that way it’s like we both made the deck together, and, uh…”

“You do care about me!” The other boy laughed and sat down at the table with him to put the finishing touches on the cards.

Wylan exhaled slowly. That was a close one.

He wanted to believe he would have successfully put the correct letters on the face cards, but even the thought of trying made him want to hide in shame. At least he’d made the art distinctive enough to avoid any mishaps while they were playing.

“So we’re going to play?” Jesper asked.

“Sure.”

“Have you ever played poker before?”

“Uh…” Wylan flushed. “Well…”

“That’s what I expected.” Jesper grinned. “Looks like I’ll be teaching you how to play.”

Wylan grabbed the finished sketches and began folding them so he could carefully separate them along the lines. He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the thought of Jesper teaching him to play cards. It was just for the other boy’s amusement, but still, it felt nice.

“Here, let me do that.” Jesper took the page from him and drew a knife that he’d apparently concealed within his clothes.

Wylan looked away. “Yeah, that’ll be faster.”

The other boy casually pulling a knife out of nowhere reminded him that they were too different. Any shared experiences they had wouldn’t be enough to overcome that. Jesper probably still saw him as a spoiled, useless kid, anyway. Even if his flirting meant something, he probably wouldn’t want more than a one-time fling…

“Looks like you’ve got something on your mind,” Jesper said as he sliced through the pages.

“No, nothing important.” Wylan dragged his gaze away from the other boy’s strong fingers wrapped around the knife’s hilt. “Just thinking about how I probably won’t be any fun to play with, since this will be my first time.”

Jesper snickered.

It took a moment for Wylan to consider what he’d said, and then he blushed scarlet. “I mean _cards._ ”

“Picking me for your first time, eh merchling?”

“ _Cards._ ”

“Sure, sure.” Jesper winked. “I’ll make sure you benefit from my skill and experience.”

Wylan buried his head in his arms.

“You make it too easy, merchling.”

“At least you’ll have fun even if I’m a lousy card player.”

“Hmm…”

Wylan glanced up. “What?”

“Don’t think I’m not familiar with that old con—pretend you’re a new card player, lower your opponent’s guard, and then clean up. I’m onto you, merchling.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That sounds more like something _you’d_ do.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Like you’ll pretend you’ve taught me how to play, but hold some information back so you can win easily.”

Jesper laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to a sweet, innocent merchling.”

Wylan folded his arms. “Do you seriously expect me to believe you’ve never conned a mercher?”

“I said ‘sweet, innocent merchling,’ not mercher.” The other boy lifted his finger for emphasis. “Cheating an arrogant mercher is fun. Cheating you would be like kicking a puppy.”

Wylan winced. “I’m not sure if I should be pleased or insulted.”

“What, you want me to cheat you?”

“No!”

“Then be pleased,” Jesper said. He finished separating the makeshift cards and shuffled them into a deck. “Now, are you ready to get started?”

“Sure,” Wylan said. Yet his stomach flipped. He’d never gambled before, and he’d probably prove to be as useless at cards as he was at other things. He really didn’t want Jesper to think he was stupid.

“No need to be nervous,” Jesper said. “Just relax and have fun.” He winked. “I’ll give you a good first time.”

Wylan buried his head in his arms again. For a moment he’d thought he was free of innuendo.


	6. Day 6

Teaching Wylan to play poker was more fun than Jesper expected. After introducing him to the basics the first day he suggested it—and taking a break for him to add some finishing touches to the cards, since he seemed to think the art needed work even though it was already gorgeous—Jesper really got into the heart of the game on the next.

For all the gambling he’d done, he’d never legitimately taught someone else to play before. He’d expected it to be an exercise in frustration and repetition, but Wylan was smart and picked up on the rules quickly.

“So this is the highest hand?” Wylan asked, as he set down five of their makeshift cards.

Jesper took a look. Five cards in sequence, all of the same suit. “Close, merchling. There’s one hand that can beat that.”

“Oh.” The other boy flushed and ducked his head.

_That_ was probably the most frustrating—and concerning—part of the entire endeavor. Although Wylan was eager to learn, whenever he made a mistake he seemed inclined to withdraw and give up on the idea entirely. Jesper wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done to make Wylan think any misstep would annoy him.

Setting aside his worries for the moment, Jesper found the hands needed for a royal flush and laid them out. “This is the best hand, a royal flush. It’s the only one that can beat the straight flush you just used.”

Wylan nodded, brow furrowed as he studied the cards.

“So,” Jesper said, “you ready to play?”

“Oh, um, I guess.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t be mad if you beat me.” Not that there was much chance of that when the merchling didn’t seem to have a poker face to save his life.

Wylan blushed again. “I’m just afraid it won’t be any fun for you to play with me.”

A million possible jokes about playing with Wylan ran through Jesper’s mind—

“I mean _cards!_ ”

“I’ll play with you anytime,” Jesper said with a completely straight face, and the resulting blush on Wylan’s was proof enough that he took innocent comments as innuendo even when it wasn’t wholly intended.

“Just deal the cards,” Wylan said.

With a grin, Jesper did.

Poker with Wylan was definitely a different sort of experience. It didn’t have the usual high-stakes excitement, but there was something comforting about it instead. Almost like they weren’t two allies trying desperately to pass the time while in quarantine, but friends spending a quiet evening together.

Friends, or…

Jesper had never thought much about settling down, always focused on the next action-packed thrill he could find, but the idea flashed through his mind of what it would feel like to come home each day to a quiet house where he could sit down with someone—Wylan?—and play cards or talk, maybe share a meal…

He shook his head. If he was starting to have fantasies about domestic life, he’d definitely been stuck inside too long.

Still, that gentle smile on Wylan’s face—

Jesper’s daydreaming came to an abrupt end as the other boy turned over his cards to reveal a full house.

“You won!”

“I did.” Wylan sounded dazed.

“You sure you’ve never played before?” Jesper asked, unable to resist teasing him.

“Never.”

On the next round, Wylan bluffed his way to victory with a worthless hand that Jesper would have bet money was a winner. Maybe he needed to reconsider his assumption that the merchling had no poker face. Blushes aside, he could mask his emotions when he wanted to.

They continued playing for the rest of the day, and it was at least a diversion, if not quite as exciting as when _kruge_ was on the line.

Would Wylan object to betting? He might. Then again, he was full of surprises lately.

At least gambling wouldn’t feel like taking advantage of him. Although Jesper won most of their games by far, Wylan’s skill was steadily improving. He seemed to have a knack for deciding when to try for a particular hand and when to give up—and how to predict what Jesper would do.

There was definitely more to him than met the eye.

“Thanks for the idea,” Jesper said as they gathered the cards back into the deck at the end of the day. “It was fun.”

Wylan blushed scarlet. “No, I should be thanking you! Thank you for teaching me how to play poker.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Is… Is there anything I can do for you in exchange? Maybe something I can… teach you?”

Jesper blinked at Wylan in surprise. He looked completely earnest, but also anxious. The nervous way he avoided eye contact kept Jesper from following his immediate inclination to suggest something dirty, as well as his second inclination—teasing him about how his merchling skills wouldn’t be of any use to someone in the Barrel.

He… didn’t _want_ to tease Wylan. The other boy was trying his hardest, and he’d made a genuine offer to do something for Jesper despite his clear discomfort with saying it.

He probably expected Jesper to mock the sorts of things he could teach.

And he was so kind. Jesper wasn’t sure why he’d never noticed before. Maybe Wylan wasn’t cut out for the life of a criminal, but he’d gone out of his way to actually _make_ a deck of cards for Jesper. The last time someone had done something so sweet and considerate for him was too far back to remember.

Kindness like that deserved better than being met with mockery.

“Sure,” he said, “there’s something you can teach me. How do you make your decisions in poker?”

Wylan made eye contact at last. “Huh?”

“You think through each move you make, I can tell. You don’t have the experience I do, but you seem to have some sort of talent for it. So what’s the secret? What do you do?”

He shook his head. “I’m not doing anything special, just trying to calculate the probability of getting a particular hand.”

Jesper stared at him. “Sorry, what?”

“You know, there’s a set number of cards in the deck and since you need specific cards to make different hands, you can figure out your chances of getting them.” Wylan shrugged. “So there’s no secret, I just try to calculate the safest option.”

“You actually sit there calculating probability in your head while we’re playing cards?” Jesper asked.

Wylan flushed. “Is that not normal?”

Jesper couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve taught poker to a genius. What sort of monster have I created?”

“I’m not a genius.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jesper said, reaching out to tap Wylan’s nose before he could stop himself, “you don’t get to talk about doing weird math stuff in your head and then pretend you aren’t smart.”

Wylan blushed furiously, from either the unexpected touch or the praise or both. “I’m not, really.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Jesper asked.

“Of course not!”

“Well you’re way smarter than me, so if you think I’m even average, that makes you a genius.”

Wylan rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go to sleep.”

As Jesper stretched out on the floor, since it was Wylan’s night in the bed, he let out a long sigh. The poker games had been a good distraction. He’d almost forgotten what a mess they were in. All sorts of terrible things might be happening elsewhere while they idled away their time on card games, and they had no way of knowing. He shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as he did.

Still, it would be nice to do it again sometime under better circumstances.


	7. Day 7

Wylan paused as they sat down together for lunch the next day. Somehow, the task of handling rations had fallen on him. He made sure they stuck to their schedule, he kept track of any rations that might go bad, and Jesper never uttered a word of complaint.

It was almost like Jesper needed him. Relied on him.

He was… useful.

“Can you believe it’s been a week already?” he asked. “We only have a week left, and then we’ll be out of quarantine.”

“Hard to believe,” Jesper said with a grin.

Despite the monotony, Wylan almost didn’t want it to end. He enjoyed the newfound closeness between him and Jesper. Once they were out of quarantine, however, their old dynamic would return. Jesper would be one of the Dregs, and Wylan would be the useless merchling tagging along.

“You ever wonder what things will be like when we get out?” Jesper asked.

Wylan jumped. Was he thinking along the same lines? “What do you mean?”

“Like… how bad this thing is.”

Oh.

“We’ve seen the stadwatch outside,” Jesper said, “but that’s it. For all we know, everyone else could be dead.”

Wylan stared at him, his own gloomy thoughts forgotten. “Why would you even think that?”

“You mean you haven’t?”

“No.”

“Guess it’s just me.” Jesper shrugged. “It creeps into my mind every now and then, you know? Maybe not that _everyone_ is dead, but people we care about. Our friends. We could get back and learn things are completely different.”

Wylan reached out and put his hand on Jesper’s arm. He’d never dreamed the other boy thought things like that. “It’s okay, Jesper. It won’t be like that.”

But Jesper pulled away. “You don’t know that! What’s the point in telling me everything’s fine when we could get out and learn it’s not, huh?”

Wylan lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“I… No, merching, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who should apologize.” Jesper rubbed his forehead. “I’m stressed, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure the others are fine,” Wylan said.

“But what if they’re not? What if one of the Dregs died? What _Kaz_ died?”

“Come on,” Wylan said, “it’s Kaz. If the plague dared to infect him, he’d scare it into leaving Ketterdam alone forever.”

Jesper managed a weak laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”

That was progress, at least.

“I didn’t mean to drag down the mood so much,” he said. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

“Okay,” Wylan said. “Do you want to play cards?”

“I’d rather not.” Jesper shook his head. “I mean, not that playing cards with you isn’t fun, but it’s the same thing over and over again…”

“I understand.” Yet after the conversation they just had, Wylan didn’t want Jesper to spend too much of the day lost in his thoughts. “What should we do today, then? Is there anything you think would be fun?”

A smirk creased the other boy’s face. Good, that Jesper spark was returning.

“Anything we could do in polite society?” he clarified.

“Who cares about polite society when we’re here all alone, just the two of us?”

“You have a one-track mind.”

Jesper snorted, then looked around the room. He grabbed the remaining sheets of paper they hadn’t used up making their cards. “I’ve got an idea.”

“You want me to teach you to draw?”

“Nope.”

“You already know how to draw?”

“Nope.”

Wylan folded his arms. “I give up.”

“I’m going to write a story.”

He froze.

Jesper was looking at him like he wanted a reaction, but all Wylan could think about was the terrifying possibility that if Jesper wrote a story, he’d expect Wylan to read it, and there was no way he’d be able to get out of it without admitting his inability to read.

He didn’t want Jesper to know. He didn’t want _anyone_ to know.

“What’s that look for?” Jesper asked. “Sure, I’ve never written a story before, but it’ll be something to pass the time, right?” His face fell. “Oh… I guess that won’t give you anything to do…”

That crestfallen look made it too cruel to talk him out of it. This was something he wanted to do—something that would take his mind off the dark worries that haunted him and help him last another day in quarantine.

“I’ll be fine,” Wylan said.

“Then why are you staring at me like that?”

Wylan swallowed hard. His heart hammered. “Just wondering what sort of story you’d write.”

“Hmm… A crime drama? Think that’s a little too close to home?”

“Maybe.”

“Then what about romance?” Jesper fluttered his eyelashes.

“One-track mind.”

“Hey, you know you love it.” The other boy winked and started to write. At first he went slowly, but then a smirk spread across his face and his pen flew over the page.

Wylan watched with growing dread. This was, he realized, the first time in a long while that he felt afraid in Jesper’s company. If Jesper asked him to read the story—and he would—he’d… he’d have to…

What would Jesper _say_?

He didn’t want Jesper to laugh at him, not like that. He didn’t want Jesper to think he was stupid, especially not when they’d be trapped together for another week. He wanted Jesper to keep looking at him like his existence meant something.

The rest of the day passed in a blur as Wylan occupied himself with mindless tasks like double-checking their rations over and over again, shuffling the makeshift deck of cards, and tidying up in an attempt to keep his mind off his impending doom, all while Jesper’s pages filled with incomprehensible writing.

At last, Jesper set down his pen with a triumphant flourish. “Done!”

Wylan looked at him.

Their gazes locked.

He opened his mouth to make an excuse—

And Jesper’s eyes widened with panic. “It’s not ready for anyone else to read!” He grabbed the pages and stuffed them into his pocket as though he couldn’t get them out of sight fast enough. “I’ll have to edit it, and… and… it’s really just a story I wrote for myself, not for someone else to read, so I hope you aren’t offended, okay?”

A heavy weight lifted from Wylan’s chest, and he laughed. “Of course, that’s fine. You ready to eat dinner?”

“Yes.” Jesper grinned. “I’m lucky to be quarantined with such an understanding merchling.”

Would he feel lucky to be quarantined with an illiterate merchling?

Wylan ignored the prickle of discomfort and gathered up the evening’s rations.

“I’m surprised you haven’t complained more about the meals,” Jesper said.

“Why?”

“Because you’re a _merchling,_ ” he said as though it should be obvious. “Don’t you want better food?”

“I’m sure you do too,” Wylan said.

“Fair enough.” Jesper stretched. “Sorry I was such bad company today. You must have been bored stiff.”

“No, it’s fine.” At least he didn’t have to explain why he couldn’t read the story. With any luck, it wouldn’t be ready until they were out of quarantine and Jesper could have his pick of readers.

They passed the rest of the evening quietly, and then Wylan stretched out on the floor to sleep. Sleeping on the floor every other night was a harder adjustment than the limited meals, but he’d gotten used to it.

“You know,” Jesper said from the bed, “there’s plenty of room if you want to share.”

“There’s that one-track mind again,” Wylan said with a laugh, although his stomach fluttered as if it often did these days whenever he wondered what would happen if he took Jesper up on one of his many inappropriate offers.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Startled, Wylan sat up and looked at Jesper. “Huh?”

The sharpshooter didn’t meet his gaze. “Just, you must be uncomfortable down there, and two people can share a bed without doing anything… so if you’re feeling lonely or… or just want to be close to someone, I won’t mind. And I won’t… do anything.”

Wylan stared at him. Had he done something to suggest he needed company?

Wait.

The dark conversation from earlier flashed through his mind.

“Do _you_ want to be close to someone?” he asked softly.

Jesper laughed. “I’d never pass up an opportunity to invite you into bed with me, you know that.” Yet the words rang hollow, without the cheer his teasing usually had.

Oh, Jesper… Wylan had considered that the other boy might suffer from the lack of physical intimacy, but he hadn’t thought it would be simple platonic closeness he needed.

He hesitated.

“Never mind. Just a thought.” Jesper looked away.

Under his eyes… But it couldn’t be tears. Weak people like Wylan cried. Strong people like Jesper didn’t, at least not over something as simple as this.

Yet…

Wylan imagined Jesper waking up in the middle of the night, all alone, haunted by the fear that everyone he loved was dead.

He stood up and walked to the bed. “It’s not like I enjoy sleeping on the floor,” he said as he awkwardly slid under the covers.

Jesper didn’t joke about Wylan wanting to be in bed with him. He wiped his eyes, but otherwise didn’t move at all.

And with another pang, Wylan wondered if he was afraid to tease in case that teasing made Wylan change his mind and left Jesper alone for the night again.

“Good night, Jesper,” he said.

“Good night, merchling.”

The bed just barely had enough room for the two of them, but it would do. Wylan closed his eyes, oddly comfortable despite the way their shoulders and limbs brushed, and drifted into sleep.


	8. Day 8

Jesper awoke with someone warm and soft in his arms.

His moment of confusion passed when he blinked open his eyes and saw the mess of red-gold curls just below his chin.

Oh, Saints. Wylan.

At some point during the night, he must have wrapped his arms around the other boy. He clung to Wylan not the way he’d embrace a lover, but more like the way a child would clutch a stuffed animal.

Now that he was awake, he needed to let go. Wylan wouldn’t be pleased if he woke up like this. He’d be mortified at best, scared at worst, and he definitely wouldn’t spend another night sleeping in the same bed.

All Jesper had to do was unlock his arms from around Wylan.

But if he let go… he’d be… cold. Like he was alone again. Alone with his thoughts and worries, and he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to stay like this, with someone pressed against him to remind him he wasn’t alone and everything was going to be all right.

Wylan’s reassurances yesterday sounded logical, but the worries persisted nevertheless. What if things had gone really bad outside? What if they got back and found out the plague had taken one of the others? It could happen. They might have lost someone they cared about.

Just like he’d lost his ma.

Just like he could lose any of the friends he’d made in a life where forming attachments was always a risk.

Just like he could lose a merchling who looked far too fragile at times.

They hadn’t been quarantined for no reason. They could be infected. Sure, they’d made it past the first week without any sign of sickness, but that still left another week before they’d be clear. One of them could easily develop symptoms in the remaining time.

Jesper wasn’t afraid of dying. He’d prefer to go out in a blaze of glory and die to a gunfight rather than a disease, but the idea didn’t scare him.

Wylan, though. For some reason, the thought of his merchling dying filled Jesper with such a deep horror it was difficult to breathe. He wrapped his arms tighter around the other boy. Why couldn’t Wylan have stayed home where he was safe? What made him go to the Barrel? He was in danger constantly with them. If he died… If he died…

There would be a void in Jesper’s life that he never imagined when they first met. He drew a shuddering breath and tried not to cry. He needed to let go before Wylan woke up, but it was like he was paralyzed. He clung to Wylan and struggled to breathe. He didn’t want to let go. Ever.

“Are you okay, Jes?”

Paralysis broken, Jesper released Wylan and scrambled backward across the bed. “Why didn’t you _say_ something if you were awake?!”

Wylan turned to him with a frown. “I just did.”

“I mean—” Jesper broke off and shook his head. He was cold again, just like he’d been concerned about, and Wylan knew he’d held him during the night, and—

“Breathe, Jesper. Everything’s going to be fine.” Wylan slid closer and touched his arm, like he had done the day before, but this time Jesper didn’t pull away. “Deep breaths.”

Jesper obeyed and wondered what he had done to deserve such a kind, gentle merchling.

“Good. Just keep breathing. I’m right here with you.”

How had he ever thought being stuck with him for two weeks would be unpleasant?

“We’re almost through this, and things are going to be fine. We’re fine, and the others are fine, and everything’s going to be fine.”

Why had he once picked on Wylan without it all being in good fun?

“And you’re not alone. I’m here. We have each other.”

Saints… a tiny, uncertain part of him wanted Wylan to mean something entirely different when he said they had each other.

“Are you okay?”

Jesper met his gaze and forced a shaky smile. “With you here to help, how can I not be?”

Wylan blushed.

Great, he thought he was making fun of him again. Or… maybe he took it as flirting? Or flattery? Jesper’s head was all muddled. He couldn’t think clearly when it came to Wylan anymore.

Then Wylan reached out to touch his forehead and check for fever as he did each morning, and Jesper couldn’t move fast enough to return the favor. He let his hand linger just a little longer than necessary before pulling away. His fingers itched to run through the other boy’s hair and see if it was as soft as it looked.

“Let’s have breakfast,” Wylan said.

“Ah, time for our good old rations.” Yet despite the repetitive meals, Jesper’s heart fluttered at how Wylan had taken charge of their meals to make sure they handled them in an orderly fashion.

He never thought he wanted someone to take care of him, but there was something comforting about it.

“Sorry about what happened,” Jesper said as they started eating.

Wylan nodded. “It’s fine.”

“I didn’t mean to do it. I wasn’t trying to… I just…” Started having a breakdown and held onto him because he couldn’t stand being alone.

“I understand.”

“I’m… really glad you’re here,” Jesper said, a little uncomfortable with how open he was being, but it felt necessary after how he’d treated Wylan in the past. “You might not know all the things I know about life in the Barrel, but I’d be much worse off if you weren’t with me now. I’m glad we’re here together.”

“That makes two of us,” Wylan said. “I feel safe with you around.”

Jesper’s stomach did all sorts of flips. “I’m glad,” he managed.

He’d worried Wylan might still be a little bit afraid of him, even though they’d gotten to know each other better. To actually hear him say Jesper made him feel _safe_ …

Wylan gave him a lopsided grin. “See? We’ll get through this.”

“Yeah.” Jesper smiled back, for real this time. “So, what fun and games do you have lined up for us today?”

After they ate, they spent the rest of their day playing cards and arguing over the feasibility of trying to construct Makker’s Wheel out of paper.

Then evening came.

Jesper looked at the bed. It was Wylan’s turn to sleep in it. And Jesper wasn’t sure where that left him.

Even though the other boy hadn’t given him a hard time over waking up in his arms, it might still be a deal-breaker. For all he knew, Wylan had considered it a one-time thing anyway. But Jesper wanted them to be close again. He’d be good this time. No touching, no cuddling, no clinging. Guaranteed.

Yet… asking would be incredibly uncomfortable.

“Do you have a side of the bed you prefer?” Wylan asked. “I didn’t think to ask last night.”

Jesper smiled so hugely he felt like his face was going to split. Bless that merchling, finding a way to invite him without it being awkward. “Either is fine with me.”

Wylan smiled, his cheeks pink, and Jesper knew for sure he’d asked to spare him the discomfort.

Saints, he wasn’t nearly as oblivious as he sometimes seemed. He must have recognized how much of a strain Jesper was under and known what he needed. They got into the bed together, and he settled in the way he did the night before—slightly touching, enough to be present.

And this time, Jesper would behave.

As he closed his eyes, he thought about the story he’d written yesterday. Thank the Saints Wylan hadn’t insisted upon reading it. What exactly had possessed Jesper to write a romance about star-crossed lovers, a proper mercher and a Barrel sharpshooter who fell in love and had a sappy happily-ever-after?

Oh, who was he kidding? He didn’t need to ask. He knew exactly why he’d written it.

If only he knew why Wylan had come to the Barrel in the first place. When Jesper first learned he was Van Eck’s son, he assumed he’d done it out of petulance, a silly little merchling who didn’t know what it was like to have real hardships. Someone who had a choice, unlike the rest of them, and was too blind to see it.

But Wylan didn’t seem like that sort of person at all. He was kind and thoughtful, and he never complained.

So then why had he come to the Barrel?

Did he intend to stay?

Would he ever consider abandoning the conventions of society to be with a wreck of a sharpshooter who was trying his best?

Jesper had put a damper on his curiosity in the interest of keeping peace between them, but no more. He needed to know, once and for all, why Wylan had run away from home.


	9. Day 9

Wylan woke up the next morning without Jesper’s arms around him, which brought a twinge of disappointment, but also a wave of relief. It had felt… nice, to be held like that, but if it happened again, he’d prefer it to be in a much different context than Jesper panicking.

He rolled over to look at the other boy. With him still asleep, there was no embarrassment to stop Wylan from admiring the handsome contours of his face. His forehead, his cheekbones, his perfect lips—Wylan wished he had the courage to tell him how beautiful he was.

Seeing a more vulnerable side of Jesper yesterday had stirred something inside of Wylan. He’d seen a Jesper who could cry, feel afraid, need to cling to someone for comfort. He’d thought Jesper was always strong, and that he was weak in comparison. Yet not only did Jesper get that way sometimes too, he’d shown it in front of Wylan.

It made Wylan want to be more open with Jesper in return.

If only he could tell Jesper the truth about himself… about how he couldn’t read, and how his father tried to kill him. But he wanted Jesper to keep seeing him the way he did these days. Knowing those things would cloud their relationship.

Wylan sighed. He wished things could stay like this. The newfound closeness between them was comforting, like a warm blanket he could wrap himself in.

He edged closer and cautiously rested his head against Jesper’s shoulder. Jesper wouldn’t mind. He’d embraced him the night before, after all. It gave him a good view of Jesper’s face, too. He admired him a moment longer, then closed his eyes. Yes, he wanted to stay like this forever.

“Hmm… merchling?”

Wylan froze. His cheeks heated, and he opened his eyes again. “Um. Good morning.”

Jesper smirked. “Can’t get enough of me, huh?”

Enjoying the sense of being flustered by Jesper’s attention more than he wanted to admit, Wylan checked to make sure the other boy didn’t have a fever, blushed as Jesper returned the favor, and then rolled out of bed to get the rations for today’s breakfast.

“Too bad we finished the bread,” Jesper said.

“On the other hand, we have less than a week to go.”

“Glad I have you here to keep me in line.”

“So,” Wylan said, “more cards today?”

Jesper stood up and stretched, which provided a tantalizing look at his taut stomach muscles before his shirt settled back into place. “Actually, let’s break it up and play something else.”

“Like what?” Wylan asked. They’d agreed the wheel idea would not work.

“Ever played truth or dare before?”

He shook his head.

“It’s easy,” Jesper said. “We take turns, and each of us has to pick either ‘truth’ or ‘dare.’ Truth means you have to give an honest answer to whatever the other person asks, and dare means you need to do whatever they ask you to do.”

Wylan narrowed his eyes. “This sounds dangerous.”

“Come on, merchling, it’ll be fun.” Jesper reached out and poked him in the side. “You’re not chicken, are you?”

He yelped. “No, but…”

“But?”

“Fine,” he said, “I’ll give it a try.”

Jesper grinned and sat down at the table. “How about three rounds? You can challenge me first, if you want.”

“Okay,” Wylan said, “truth or dare?”

“Dare, of course. Much more exciting.”

He rubbed his chin. A number of things had popped into his mind for if Jesper took the truth option, because he wanted to know so much more about him. Exactly how could he come up with a _dare_ when they were trapped in a single room? He looked around for inspiration.

“Never played before, right?” Jesper asked. “Usually dares are somewhat embarrassing. You could spank me, for example.” He fluttered his eyelashes.

Wylan rolled his eyes. “What sort of dare is that?”

“I could spank you?”

Taking the dare option with Jesper sounded like it could become quite awkward. “Let me see…” He got up and walked back to their rations. A small amount of cocoa has been provided along with everything else. “I’d reserved this for a special treat to celebrate the end of quarantine, but…” He spooned out a tiny amount and handed it to Jesper. “Eat this.”

Jesper gave the spoon a suspicious look. “It looks as though you’re handing me chocolate, but I’m suspicious.”

Wylan sat down with a smile.

“Well, here goes.” Jesper took a taste and nearly spit it out. “That’s _bitter_! Merchling, what did you do to this?”

“That’s what chocolate tastes like without sugar,” Wylan said.

“You’re going to pay for this, merchling.” He winced and shuddered after the second taste, but finished eating it. “My turn. Truth or dare?”

No way was Wylan giving him a chance for payback. “Truth.”

“Boring.”

He folded his arms. “Truth.”

“Fine,” Jesper said with a smirk, “tell me about the biggest scandal you’ve been involved in.”

Wylan frowned. “The biggest what?”

“Scandal.”

“Why do you think I even _have_ a scandal to tell about?”

“Aren’t rich people always getting into scandals?”

He rolled his eyes. “Biggest scandal, uh… I guess the time I spent over a week alone with a sharpshooter would have to be my biggest scandal if anyone ever found out about it.”

Jesper folded his arms. “That doesn’t count.”

“It’s the closest thing I have,” Wylan said as his cheeks heated.

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Because I’m not as interesting as you think I am,” he said under his breath. Of course Jesper wanted him to have exciting, probably salacious scandals in his past. Of course he did.

“Fine, no scandals for Wylan Van Sunshine,” Jesper said with a frown. “I guess that’s another risk of truth or dare: you don’t always get as entertaining a result as you’d hoped. Your turn.”

“Truth or dare?” Wylan said.

“I’ll mix it up,” Jesper said. “Truth.”

Wylan hesitated. There were so many questions he had… so many things he wanted to know about Jesper’s past, interests, hopes and dreams… “Is there anything you’re ashamed to admit to other people?” he blurted.

Jesper stared at him.

Oh no, why had he said that? Jesper wasn’t like _him_ , with a shameful secret buried deep under lies and deception. “I’m sorry, I—”

“No,” Jesper said, “it’s fair. I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I have a gambling problem.” He snorted. “I guess that isn’t really a big revelation, huh? But I mean… I’m not always having fun when I’m out there. Sometimes I tell myself I’m going to stop, but I just can’t. It’s like an addiction.”

“I’m sorry,” Wylan said.

“You could help me—give me a merchling addiction instead?” Jesper winked.

Wylan rolled his eyes, but laughed. “Maybe.” He doubted it was that simple, but if he could help Jesper in any way, he would.

“My turn,” Jesper said. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

For a terrifying moment, he wondered if he’d get his own question echoed back at him, but instead Jesper asked, “Have you ever done something unforgiveable—something so awful, you feel you can’t ever make up for it?”

_Being born_ , as far as his father was concerned. Wylan forced away that thought. “You’re really trying to find my dark side, aren’t you?”

“Answer the question, merchling. No backing out now unless you quit the game.”

Something unforgiveable… He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jesper. I can’t think of anything. Following Kaz’s orders makes me feel guilty sometimes, but that’s the closest I’ve come to anything like that.”

Jesper frowned. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Hmm…”

“My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Jesper said.

This time, he had a better idea planned. “Open the window, stick your head out, and sing a children’s song as loud as you can.”

Jesper’s eyebrows lifted.

“Go on,” Wylan said. “Do it.”

“You have a crueler streak than I expected.” Jesper opened up the window and serenaded the stadwatch patrols with a three-verse song about teddy bears, then ducked back inside. “Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He sat back down. “Last one, then. Truth or dare?”

A calculating look sharpened his gaze as he waited, and Wylan wondered what weird question he’d throw at him this time. He seemed to have picked his questions with a specific purpose in mind…

Wait a minute…

Scandal? Something unforgiveable?

Was Jesper actually trying to find out why Wylan came to the Barrel?

If that was the case, he might ask outright this time. And Wylan couldn’t tell him the truth. Couldn’t let him know that his father had discarded him so easily for being a worthless son. Couldn’t let him know the “genius” merchling wasn’t able to do something any child could do.

“Dare,” Wylan said.

“Why did—” Jesper blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Dare.”

“Really?”

“Just like you, I’m mixing it up.”

Jesper frowned at him for a long time, then smirked. “Kiss me.”

Wylan nearly swallowed his tongue. “ _What_?”

“You can back out and switch to truth if you want,” Jesper said. “If not, kiss me. That’s your dare.”

His heart hammered. His cheeks burned. He should have known Jesper would pick something like that. Did he really want to be kissed by him, or did he just want to throw him off balance?

If Wylan kissed Jesper, it would be too obvious how he felt about him. He wouldn’t be able to pretend the kiss meant nothing.

Blushing, he stood up and walked around the table to Jesper, who grinned at him. For a moment, he was tempted to go for it and kiss him the way he did in the fantasies he pretended not to have. Then he thought about the lies between them, and the distance, and the fact that if they entered an actual relationship—which he doubted Jesper even wanted—he’d eventually have to tell him the truth.

He kissed him quickly on the cheek and then retreated.

“Wha—” Jesper stared at him. “Is that all I get?”

“You didn’t specify what kind of kiss,” Wylan said. Hopefully Jesper would assume his blush was from embarrassment rather than realize even a simple kiss on the cheek left him flushed and excited.

“I won’t make that mistake again,” Jesper said. “Let’s play a few more rounds!”

“Nope,” Wylan said. “You said three.”

Jesper snorted, but he was smiling. “Spoilsport.”

The memory of his warm skin beneath Wylan’s lips lingered in his thoughts for the rest of the day, disturbed only by his growing self-loathing as the memories of what his father thought of him rose to the surface.


	10. Day 10

Jesper woke up a little disappointed by the lack of weight against his shoulder—waking up the previous morning to find Wylan cuddling close had been quite a treat.

He rolled over to face the other boy, who was sound asleep. His cheek tingled when he remembered the kiss.

He’d been hoping for a kiss on the lips, but it still had been nice. From Wylan, even that much was a surprise. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for anything. He couldn’t figure out whether Wylan was interested in him or not, but the more time they spent together, the harder it was to deny his feelings.

And he was still no closer to finding out why Wylan had come to the Barrel.

Wylan had requested a dare as soon as Jesper was finally ready to ask him outright. Maybe he’d wanted some excitement. Or maybe he realized where the questions were leading and didn’t want to answer.

No scandals, no unforgiveable acts, and nothing to suggest he’d done it on a lark.

What could it be?

Wylan made a soft sound, and Jesper stirred to wish him good morning and hopefully tease a little blush out of him. But his eyes were shut, and then he whimpered a second time and shifted restlessly.

Jesper froze. He didn’t know how to handle people having nightmares. Should he just pretend he hadn’t heard anything?

“Please…” Wylan’s voice was barely audible, but the plea chilled Jesper all the same. “I’m sorry… Please don’t…”

No, he couldn’t ignore this. He couldn’t let his merchling suffer. Jesper reached out and hesitantly touched his arm. “Wylan?”

Another choked whimper.

“Wy, it’s okay. I’m here.” He put his hand on Wylan’s shoulder, unsure if he should wake him up or not.

Wylan leaned into his touch, but his breathing was ragged and uneven.

“I’m here. It’s Jesper. You’re right here with me.”

If this went on much longer, he’d have to shake him awake—but Wylan shifter closer, into the circle of Jesper’s arms, and the tension drained from him at last. Jesper hardly dared to move as the other boy relaxed into a peaceful sleep again, nestled against his chest.

Well then.

Maybe it was just a platonic need for physical comfort, but either way, Jesper was apparently a source of safety for him, like he’d said the other day. And at least the nightmare stopped. That was what mattered most.

What would make his merchling cry out like that? Who had hurt him? The question formed a burning core of anger deep in Jesper’s stomach. Because he clearly had been pleading with someone, and the gentle kindness Wylan had shown throughout their quarantine made such a thing deplorable.

_Who_ had _dared_ hurt his sweet merchling, and when could Jesper shoot them?

Wylan shifted, and Jesper drew a sharp breath, but this time he stirred and sleepily blinked open his eyes. He looked up at Jesper, and his cheeks turned pink.

“Don’t blame me,” Jesper said. “What else could I do when you sought solace in my arms?” He winked.

But Wylan lowered his head. “Oh. Did I… wake you up?”

“I was already awake,” Jesper said, “but you were having a nightmare.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For being weak,” Wylan said.

“Hey now…” Jesper tilted his chin up so he could look into his eyes, even though the contact made his breath quicken. “You’re not weak for having nightmares. It was just the other day you caught me clinging to you because I was scared and upset.”

“And you were uncomfortable when you realized I was awake,” Wylan said. “You didn’t want me to know.”

“Because I thought you’d be displeased that I had my arms around you,” Jesper said, which was only partly true, but he wanted to make sure Wylan knew he didn’t think any less of him. “I didn’t mind you seeing me like that.” He grinned. “So since you _know_ I have no problem with putting my arms around you, there’s no reason for you to be unhappy.”

Wylan shook his head, but a little life returned to his face. “I guess we should get some breakfast.”

It was disappointing that Wylan had to leave his arms so soon, but as Jesper stretched and got up, he consoled himself with the fact that at least he seemed to have recovered from the night’s ordeal.

Once, he’d seen Wylan as a spoiled little merchling whose nightmares would have made him scoff with the contemptuous belief that he had nothing to truly be afraid of, but something had changed. Wylan had become someone who should be protected from his fears. Jesper watched him prepare their morning rations, and guilt prickled him over things he might have once said, or thought, or assumed.

“Why did you pick the dare in the final round?” he asked, as they sat down together to eat.

“What does it matter?” Wylan asked.

“I want to know.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see what you would dare me to do.” He blushed. “Maybe I was hoping you’d make me kiss you.”

That was a hope Jesper could wholeheartedly get behind, and yet… “Is that the truth?”

Wylan looked away.

“Why did you take the dare, merchling? Tell me honestly.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, but then he finally spoke up in a quiet voice. “Because I knew what you were going to ask next, and it wasn’t a question I was willing to answer. I didn’t want to ruin the game by quitting.”

“What question did you think I would ask?”

Instead of answering, Wylan started eating.

Jesper sighed. “I admitted I have a gambling problem. You didn’t give me one juicy detail about yourself.” He’d opened himself up to the other boy, only for him to refuse to do the same.

“You didn’t ask questions that had juicy answers.”

“Did he do something?”

Wylan froze.

“Is that why you won’t go home?” Jesper asked. “Did your father do something that made you run away?”

“I’m not going to answer that.” Wylan shoved the last of his breakfast rations into his mouth and rose from the table.

Jesper caught his arm before he could leave, not that he could go very far anyway. “Don’t you trust me, Wylan?”

The other boy sagged.

“I won’t laugh,” Jesper said, “no matter what it is. I just want to know.”

Wylan’s gaze met his. His eyes were wide, filled with an emotion Jesper couldn’t quite identify. He drew a breath and hesitated.

Jesper braced himself, not sure if what he was about to hear would be silly or horrifying or somewhere in between, but ready to hear whatever it was.

Then Wylan looked away. “Please don’t do this to me, Jesper. _Please._ ”

Hearing him beg was the one thing Jesper could stand less than his curiosity. He held up his hands. “I’m sorry.” Maybe it had been too cruel to play the trust card. “You don’t have to tell me.” That ragged note in Wylan’s voice cut him to the core. “I won’t ask again.”

He pretended not to notice Wylan wipe his eyes as he walked to the other side of the room.


	11. Day 11

Wylan felt sick.

_Don’t you trust me, Wylan?_

Jesper had held true to his promise not to ask about his past anymore. He hadn’t said a word about what happened for the rest of the day or this morning. He teased and flirted and generally acted like the whole incident never occurred.

_Don’t you trust me?_

That question had nearly broken Wylan. Looking up into Jesper’s eyes, he’d almost revealed everything.

He wanted to trust Jesper.

Wylan watched as the other boy drummed his fingers against the table, seemingly lost in thought. His reassurances had helped a lot. Wylan was able to sleep better in part because he knew if his nightmares returned, Jesper was there to keep him safe and wouldn’t judge him for it. He was glad they’d started sharing the bed, even if he wouldn’t say so out loud. It felt good to fall asleep knowing Jesper was right alongside him.

And yet, when it came to taking that final step…

Wylan’s father had told him so many times he was worthless. A moron. A pathetic excuse for a son. He didn’t want to repeat those things to Jesper. He didn’t want Jesper to know he was less a runaway prince and more discarded trash.

Yet the past few days had proven that it was hard to keep secrets while in close quarters with someone for an extended period of time. If they spent more time together, eventually his inability to read would come up.

He couldn’t keep lying forever, especially if he… if he…

Jesper turned a dazzling smile on him with those perfect lips, and Wylan’s breath caught in his throat.

Especially if he wanted more.

Ghezen, Jesper was right to ask about trust. How could Wylan want to kiss him one minute and be afraid to confide in him the next? It would be one thing if he wanted to fool around, but deep inside he knew he wanted more than that. So much more.

Then again, fooling around was probably all Jesper wanted. Maybe it would be better to go along with that, rather than waste his time dreaming of things he could never have.

“Why don’t we play cards again, merchling?” Jesper asked.

Wylan shrugged. “Sure, okay.”

“I think it’s time to raise the stakes a bit. You up for placing some wagers?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want to gamble with me?”

“Nothing big,” Jesper said quickly. “No _kruge_ if you’re uncomfortable with that. I’ll bet a piece of dried meat from my dinner rations on our first match.”

Wylan laughed. This sounded like just the thing to distract him from his worries. “You’re on.”

Their card games ensued, and a number of bets began piling up in the “pot” for their matches. Rations, a promise of dessert from the tiny bit of cocoa that remained, all sorts of little odds and ends they could find, and even more things once they began to run out of physical bets.

Jesper won the honor of having Wylan warm his side of the bed that evening, a prize which came with much eyebrow-waggling and innuendo. Wylan won the promise of a night out on the town once all of this was over. Jesper won a full portrait Wylan would draw of him after he had access to the necessary supplies. On and on it went, and if Wylan lost more than he won, he didn’t care. He was with Jesper, and he was having fun.

“Time to place your bet,” Jesper said as he shuffled the deck for the next hand.

“Hmm…” Wylan rubbed his chin. “I’m running out of ideas.”

Jesper smirked. “I’ve got one for you.”

“What?”

“Wager a kiss.”

Heat flooded Wylan’s cheeks. “What?”

“If I win this match, you give me a kiss. A real one, this time, on the lips.”

Wylan’s heart thumped in his chest. “What… What are you putting up against it?” His mouth was dry. Oh Ghezen, was he really going along with this?

From the slight widening of Jesper’s eyes, he was surprised too, but then he drew one of his pearl-handled revolvers and set it on the table between them. “If you win, I’ll let you take apart one of my guns to see how it works.”

Wylan straightened up and stared at him. “ _Really_?” He’d wanted to study Jesper’s revolvers for so long, but the other boy was too protective of them to ever allow it—or so he thought. His fingers itched to grab the gun on the table and start taking it apart that very moment. “You’re willing to put that up against a _kiss_?”

Was… was he saying a kiss from Wylan was as valuable as his guns?

“Merchling kisses don’t come easily,” Jesper said, “and since I’m dealing with Wylan No-Scandals Van Sunshine, I assume Wylan kisses are an even rarer and more precious commodity.”

Wylan blushed and looked away. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he mumbled.

“Then it’s fair?”

“But your guns…”

“Merchling, if you’re saying you need to put more on the table, I’m all for that.” Jesper winked. “Two kisses against the chance to take apart one of my guns. Agreed?”

Wylan felt like he might never stop blushing, but his desire to kiss Jesper was matched by his desire to understand how those guns worked, so he nodded. “Agreed.”

With a grin that made his breath catch, Jesper dealt the cards.

They weren’t in Wylan’s favor. He played his heart out and used every scrap of knowledge and strategy he had to try to give himself the upper hand, but he quickly realized Jesper had no intention of folding no matter what.

“Two pair,” he said with a sigh. There was still a chance, but…

Jesper laid out a full house and stood up. “Time to give me my prize, merchling.”

Wylan walked around the table to face him. His heart pounded so hard he could barely speak. “Um, how should we do this?”

“Just kiss me.”

“Right. Okay. Um.”

“You’re starting to make me nervous,” Jesper said.

“That makes two of us.”

His strong hands closed over Wylan’s shoulders and he looked into his eyes. “I don’t want you to be nervous about kissing me.”

How could he not be, when he’d never done this before, and it was with Jesper? The feel of his hands, warm and firm against Wylan’s shoulders, the deep rumble of his voice, the mingled passion and gentleness burning in his gaze—it was all too much. Wylan couldn’t breathe.

_Don’t you trust me, Wylan?_

He did.

He stretched up onto his tiptoes as Jesper tilted his head down toward him, and kissed him lightly on the lips.

A shockwave went through him.

He was doing it. He was kissing Jesper.

The bet had been for two kisses. He owed him one more. Wylan’s thoughts had turned to mush, but he wrapped his arms around Jesper and melted against him as their mouths met again. Jesper’s tongue lightly prodded his lips, and Wylan parted them, content to lose himself in the other boy’s touch and trust Jesper knew what to do.

And oh, he _definitely_ knew what to do.

At last they pulled apart, flushed and breathless. Wylan blinked at Jesper, dizzy, trying to ground himself.

“Phew, merchling,” Jesper said with a chuckle. “You’ve got more fire than I expected.”

Wylan couldn’t find words. At least Jesper had some restraint, because he was pretty sure he would have let the other boy go as far as he wanted, regardless of any later regrets he might have. He stared at Jesper and tried to judge whether that look in his eyes meant it was just a fun amusement for him or if he felt like fireworks were going off, too.

Jesper picked up the gun from the table and held it out to him. “Here.”

“Huh?”

“That was _way_ more value than I was supposed to win.” Jesper winked. “If I don’t let you take apart my revolver now, I’ll feel like I ripped you off.”


	12. Day 12

Jesper watched Wylan sketch the pieces of his disassembled revolver. If the other boy even noticed, distracted as he was by his work, he probably thought Jesper was watching out of anxiety for his gun, but it had a lot more to do with the artist himself.

After their kiss, Jesper had barely been able to think straight for the rest of the day. And getting into bed with Wylan that evening, especially after Wylan obediently warmed his side of the bed as promised—that had been a bad thing to bet in retrospect—nearly destroyed what little composure he had left.

He’d woken up far too aroused by Wylan cuddling against him during the night and fortunately managed to extricate himself from that delicate situation without his merchling waking up, thank the Saints.

And still, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The first kiss had been what he expected: soft, a little hesitant, over too soon. He’d expected to tease a similar kiss out of him for the second.

He hadn’t been prepared for Wylan’s body pressed against him, his lips parting for Jesper’s tongue. How Jesper kept control of himself after that happened would be a question for the ages.

Jesper wanted to kiss him again.

At least, if Wylan wanted him to.

The other boy had been fairly passive during the kiss, and Jesper wasn’t sure if that was because of his inexperience or if he’d been patiently tolerating it until he was done. The way he’d melted into Jesper’s arms suggested he enjoyed what was happening, but he’d also just sort of gone along with whatever Jesper did.

He wanted a definite answer, and if Wylan liked it, he wanted to kiss him for the rest of the day.

Then he wanted to kiss Wylan’s neck. He wanted to kiss and lick and nibble his soft skin until he found out how much it took to make a proper merchling moan with pleasure.

He didn’t want to stop there, either. He wasn’t sure he’d ever want to stop. Every time he looked at Wylan, his mind went wild with possibilities. They still had three more days all alone together. A lot could happen in three days.

Jesper took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. It was a nonstarter, because Wylan didn’t want it.

Or rather, Wylan didn’t want a one-time romp. He’d want something serious, a committed relationship, and even if Jesper admitted it might not be bad to try settling down with someone like him, Wylan was a proper merchling who would one day rejoin polite society whether he thought so or not, and when that day came, he wouldn’t want a gun-toting gambler on his arm.

Right?

He wouldn’t, right?

“Ah!” Wylan drew a sharp breath and lifted a worryingly small part he’d taken from inside the gun.

“What is it?” Jesper asked. “Did something break?”

As much as it delighted him to watch Wylan work, he _really_ didn’t like seeing his gun in so many pieces—would it ever actually all fit back together again? He should have asked for more than two kisses.

“Nothing broke,” Wylan said with a reassuring smile. “I just figured out how this… Yes, it must be like that…” He mumbled under his breath as he made more sketches and looked at the pieces, absorbed in his work once again.

A fond smile crept over Jesper’s face. It was hard to worry when Wylan seemed so happy. He’d do whatever it took to see this side of him more often. Sketches and diagrams covered the paper in front of him, with arrows pointing this way and that. There wasn’t a single written explanation in sight, but that didn’t matter much.

All Jesper needed to know was that the gun fired. That was enough for him.

Yet Wylan, who had never fired a gun in his life and probably never wanted to, was beside himself with excitement. He apparently thrived on things like this, his eyes alight with wonder as he figured out how the revolver worked. Saints, he ought to be studying at university, not running amok with Kaz and the crew.

“Thank you so much, Jesper,” Wylan said. “This was incredible.”

“Don’t mention it. You, uh, _are_ going to put it back together when you’re done, right?”

Wylan laughed. “Yes, of course.”

He hummed to himself as he reassembled the gun, and Jesper watched in amazement as all of those little pieces fit back together and slowly looked less like a mess of parts and more like a gun again. Wylan glanced at his sketches from time to time, and soon he was holding an intact revolver.

Then he held it out. “Satisfied?”

Jesper accepted the gun and stared at it, hardly able to believe what he’d just watched. “Does it still shoot?”

Wylan laughed again. “Do you want to test it?”

“Nah, the _stadwatch_ might come running. They’ll think I shot you in a lover’s spat.”

“Then as soon as we’re out of here, you can test it. I promise it will shoot.”

Hearing him speak with such calm assurance took Jesper’s breath away. Wylan was cute, and flustered Wylan was a special treat to behold, but _confident_ Wylan was perhaps the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “And you know exactly how and why it shoots.”

Wylan nodded with a smile and gathered up his sketches.

“You’re such a genius,” Jesper said.

The other boy froze. “I’m not—really.”

This again.

“Sure you are,” he said. “Why pretend you aren’t?”

“I’m not as smart as you think I am.”

Jesper wrapped his arm around his shoulders and tugged him close. “I don’t understand half of what you do. You’re way smarter than me, merchling. Probably smarter than any of us.”

Wylan looked up into his eyes. He was so close. Close enough to kiss. “Would you be disappointed if I wasn’t?”

Jesper tore his gaze away from Wylan’s lips to make eye contact. “What?”

“If you found out I wasn’t as smart as you thought I was, would you be disappointed?”

“You telling me you’re a magician now?” Jesper asked, teasing yet also baffled. “I didn’t just see you take my gun apart, figure out how it works, and then put it back together perfectly—it was all an illusion?”

“What? No.”

“I call you a genius based on what I’ve seen,” Jesper said. “Not any assumptions or guesses, but the actual facts.”

“So if I couldn’t do other things,” Wylan said, his tone dead serious, “that wouldn’t make any difference?”

“Merchling, I _know_ there are things you can’t do. Who’s Mark, again?”

Wylan elbowed him. “I’m serious.”

“Me too,” Jesper said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re a genius to me and that’s all there is to it, no matter what else you can or can’t do.”

The other boy blushed and looked away, and for a moment Jesper thought he was going to explain what this weird conversation was all about. It at least felt like the gap, whatever had caused it, was starting to close. But then he turned and walked to the other side of the room, and Jesper fought back a twinge of impatience.

Something was tearing his merchling up inside, he was sure of it. This definitely wasn’t the right time to ask about another kiss.

He just wished he could make Wylan see that whatever it was, he could trust him.


	13. Day 13

Was it possible to fall in love in two weeks?

Wylan lay awake in bed early in the morning, with Jesper’s arm partly draped over him and his head against the other boy’s chest. Jesper slept peacefully—as he had the past few nights—and Wylan didn’t remember having any nightmares, but it really didn’t matter whether one of them had unconsciously sought the other’s comfort during the night or not. If he got his wish, he’d wake up like this every morning for the rest of his life.

He’d found Jesper attractive before, but nothing compared to how he felt lately. In the past, he’d seen Jesper as a little annoying, someone he couldn’t open up to without fear of being laughed at. Now, increasingly, he wanted to trust him.

Last night, he’d been so close to telling Jesper the truth, but he couldn’t. He wondered if he could find an excuse to kiss him again.

Jesper stirred and opened his eyes. A lazy smirk crossed his face as his gaze flitted over Wylan.

That look made Wylan’s breath catch every time. Other people had probably seen that smirk from Jesper in bed before—but was it ever like this, both of them fully clothed and in each other’s arms just for the closeness? He wanted to believe this was something special.

“I never guessed you’d be such a cuddler,” Jesper said with a teasing smile.

“ _You_ have your arm around _me._ ”

His smile faltered.

Wylan winced. Great, once again he’d given the wrong impression in his attempt to flirt. He searched desperately for something better to say. “Besides, if I have to share the bed with someone so warm, I might as well get something nice out of it.”

Oh Ghezen, that sounded so much cuter and flirtier in his head.

But Jesper’s smirk was back. “So you _do_ like it.”

“Don’t act like it’s a big revelation,” Wylan said. “I don’t believe you’d keep doing this if you really thought I disliked it.”

Jesper squeezed him close with another grin, and oh, being held like this felt better than anything in the world. His fingers trailed lightly over Wylan’s arm before he sat up. “What are you looking forward to the most once we’re out of here?”

Wylan fought the urge to tug Jesper back down because he wasn’t done being cuddled yet and stretched instead. “A bath.”

He regretted it the moment he said it, because it earned a sharp whistle from the other boy. “Merchling bath, hmm? Am I invited?”

“A private bath,” Wylan said, blushing furiously.

“Come on,” Jesper said, “I could scrub your back for you.”

Oh that sounded nice. Wylan blushed even harder. Hopefully Jesper would take his silence to mean he was so embarrassed he was overcome, and not that he couldn’t tear his mind away from the thought of the lanky sharpshooter washing his back and then maybe slipping into the water with him.

_Bath with Jesper_ slid neatly in with the other fantasies he pretended not to have.

“What a pity,” Jesper said, as they got breakfast ready. “I’ve lived with you for almost two weeks and still haven’t seen you naked.”

Wylan raised his eyebrows. “Did you expect to?”

“Well we _are_ living together in close quarters.”

“Almost like being married,” he said without thinking.

A huge grin spread across Jesper’s face. “Why yes, merchling, it _is_ just like that, isn’t it?”

“I said ‘almost.’” Wylan smiled in spite of himself. “You know, sharing meals with someone, having someone to talk to…”

“So everything except the fun parts?” Jesper asked.

“Sleeping beside each other at night,” Wylan said as if he hadn’t interrupted, even though it made him blush.

“With our clothes on,” Jesper said, “so again, everything except the fun parts.”

Wylan rolled his eyes.

“I know what you mean, though,” the other boy said in a softer voice. “I never knew it could be so nice to just have another person around.”

In two days, this would be over, and he was happy they’d be no longer quarantined, but… what would they lose as a result? Wylan swallowed past a lump in his throat. 

“I want excitement,” Jesper said. He looked somewhere past Wylan, his gaze distant. “I want the thrill of danger and high stakes and something to get my heart racing. But it wouldn’t be bad to also have someplace warm and safe with someone to talk to. Someone to depend on, someone who meant the world to me.”

Was he saying he wanted to settle down someday? “If you got all of those ‘fun parts’ with it,” Wylan said, “then I suppose that would make your heart race too.”

Jesper flashed another grin at him. “Offering to make my heart race, merchling?”

“I’m not nearly exciting enough.”

“You sure about that?” He leaned close. “Want to experiment?”

Wylan blushed and pulled away. “Anyway, what are you looking forward to the most?”

He half-feared Jesper would say he wanted to find someone more exciting to do all those fun things with, but instead he said, “Makker’s Wheel, some high-stakes card games, you know the drill.”

He did. He sighed.

The smile faded from Jesper’s face.

“Sorry,” Wylan said. “You’ll have fun, I’m sure. You deserve some fun, after all of this.”

Thinking about Jesper gambling hurt almost more than what he’d feared he would say. The other boy had admitted to him that his gambling was a problem, but there was no getting away from it. Of course he’d go right back. It was foolish to think Wylan could do anything about it.

“Merchling,” Jesper said, “about what I told you…”

Wylan looked down at the table. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I—I was serious about what I said. About it being an addiction. I know it is.” Jesper’s fingers drummed against the table. “I know I shouldn’t want to go back, but I do, even right now. Sometimes it takes everything I have to stay in here.”

Hesitant, Wylan lifted his head. “You’ve managed this long.”

“Because you’d yell at me for breaking quarantine,” Jesper said with a teasing smile.

“Is there anything I could do once we’re out of quarantine, then?”

Jesper stared at him.

“I’m sorry.” Wylan wasn’t sure why he’d offered. He just wanted to help Jesper in any way he could. Maybe to repay him for all the kindness he’d shown him. Maybe to make himself useful to a boy who shone so much brighter than he ever could. “It’s none of my business.”

Yet Jesper reached out slowly and took his hands. “You’d try to help me?”

Wylan nodded, unable to speak.

“I’d like that, Wy. I’d like it a lot.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Jesper sighed and let go of his hands. “I don’t even know where to begin. Maybe if you just check up on me… try to hold me accountable?”

“I’ll try,” Wylan said softly.

“And… please don’t tell the others. I mean, they obviously know, but I try to pretend it’s not as big a deal as it is. It’d be nice if I could get better without them knowing how bad it got.”

His heart swelled that Jesper trusted him with this. “I promise.”

“Merchling,” Jesper said, “you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I was an idiot to not realize it before.”

There were so many things Wylan wanted to say to him.

How safe and happy he made him feel.

The truth about how he ended up in the Barrel.

His hopes for a future with more kisses and soft touches and waking up in the same bed together.

Instead, he found himself saying, “You won dessert in one of our card games, so I’m going to make you cookies today.” He got up and walked to where they had the last bit of cocoa, flour, and sugar that remained from their rations.

“How does a merchling know how to cook?”

Wylan blushed and turned to face him. “Well… I don’t, actually, but I understand the scientific principle behind how baking works, so…” Maybe it was a bad idea, thinking he was smart enough to cook without instruction. Yet he was sure he understood the concept.

Jesper cracked up laughing. “Okay, whip up some science cookies in your makeshift lab, and once we’re out of here, I’ll cook up something real for you.”

He would? Wylan couldn’t help but smirk. “ _You_ can cook?”

“I have, in my lifetime, made a waffle.”

“ _A_ waffle?” He started laughing. “One?”

“It was a good waffle!”

“My science cookies will win,” Wylan said, more confident as he considered the matter, “so let’s… oh no, we don’t have an oven!”

The terrible realization struck him like an anvil—how could he have been so stupid as to not consider that?—and whatever the look on his face was, it left Jesper howling with laughter.

Stung, Wylan looked at him—but Jesper’s eyes were dancing as he laughed, and he seemed so happy, Wylan felt himself wanting to smile, too. Jesper was laughing, but… not really laughing _at_ him… laughing like he wanted him to join in. Laughing over the silliness of preparing to make cookies only to realize they lacked the actual tools needed.

A laugh escaped in spite of himself, and as he set down the ingredients, he found himself giggling.

“Once we’re out of here,” Jesper said through his laughter, “I’ll find an oven for you.”

“You just want to make sure I don’t cheat you out of your cookie,” Wylan said.

“I can’t pass up the opportunity to watch you work your science magic.”

He hoped Jesper would be impressed. But if it went poorly… he’d tease him, like this, like when he blushed, in good fun, without intending to hurt him. Maybe… maybe it was possible to mess up and not have it be a huge disaster. Maybe Jesper meant it when he said someone could not be able to do things and still be worth something.

Maybe, no matter what his father had told him, it was possible for him to find happiness.


	14. Day 14

It was their last full day of quarantine.

Jesper looked out the window and let out a sigh. He should feel happy. They’d no longer be confined. Their lives would go back to normal.

And he’d lose this closeness with Wylan.

Not all of it, of course. But Wylan resting his head on Jesper’s shoulder when they slept, waking up alongside each other, sharing meals together, flirting and teasing in every spare moment—that would be gone.

Maybe more would change, too. Wylan promised to help him with his gambling problem, but maybe once they no longer shared the same roof, the gulf between sharpshooter and merchling would widen again.

Jesper reached into his pocket and pulled out the story he’d written. The pages were creased from how many times he’d folded and unfolded them.

Star-crossed lovers. A sharpshooter and a merchling. Him and Wylan, if not named so directly in the story, with a happy ending as a couple. He’d left it sitting out on the table earlier, in case Wylan happened to notice and take a look, but the other boy had ignored it. Ever since then, he’d considered asking Wylan to read it, but he was afraid he’d be rejected.

Jesper couldn’t remember ever wanting someone as much as he wanted Wylan. Quarantine had really gotten to him.

No, it was more than that. It was getting to know someone so well and finally seeing him for who he was. Seeing beyond the shy merchling exterior to the kind, brilliant, dependable genius hidden underneath.

But how to put it into words? How to ask someone so special and wonderful to take a chance on him?

A merchling and a sharpshooter, star-crossed lovers with a happily-ever-ever…

In his mind, he played through scenarios of how it might work out, how he could show Wylan his feelings and see if he’d be willing to give it a try.

Maybe he should tell Wylan outright that he was interested in a relationship. Then again, it might be a bit much to ask him like that, and it would put him on the spot.

Maybe ask what he thought of a merchling dating a guy from the Barrel. No, that was a bit too obvious.

Maybe… ask if Wylan believed romantic relationships were possible between two significantly different people?

He turned away from the window. Wylan was tidying up the room from their stay. He already had the packaging from their rations collected in a neat pile. Wylan intent on physical labor with his hair in slight disarray made Jesper’s heart race. He quickly turned toward the window again. Living with him was becoming… dangerous.

One didn’t bet kisses on card games and cuddle in bed if one was wholly opposed to a relationship, right? Maybe it would be better to ask what Wylan saw in his future. Coax it around to involving a relationship… see if that relationship could involve someone who wasn’t necessarily another mercher…

It might work. Jesper didn’t have to ask outright about it being someone like him. He could act like he wanted to know what Wylan’s tastes were to tease him, get him all flustered and embarrassed, and see what he said.

And maybe, just maybe—

“He tried to have me killed.”

Jesper jumped. He turned to see Wylan standing behind him with an unreadable expression. He searched for anything the sudden statement might connect to, but it seemed to have come out of nowhere. “Sorry, what?”

“You asked what he did to make me run away,” Wylan said, his voice almost frightening in how emotionless it was. “I didn’t run away from home. I ran from the men my father hired to kill me.”

Jesper stared at him. Words refused to come. He remembered asking, but the answer felt impossible. Surely Wylan wasn’t saying Jan Van Eck tried to have him killed. How could anyone want to kill Wylan, much less his own father?

“Now you know.”

“Are…” Jesper’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Are you sure?”

“I spent a long time trying to convince myself it was a mistake,” Wylan said, his gaze nearly as hollow as his voice, “but I’m sure.”

Before Jesper knew what he was doing, he’d wrapped Wylan in a tight hug.

Wylan squeaked, muffled against his chest.

So that was the truth he’d wanted so badly to know. He held Wylan tighter. Van Eck had tried to kill him. And Kaz wanted to do a job for that man? Well, Kaz could do whatever he wanted, but then Jesper and Van Eck were going to have their own negotiations by way of Jesper’s revolvers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Aren’t you… Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“Why? Because he’s a monster.” He’d have to be, to hurt Wylan. “Nothing else could explain it.”

“You don’t know that.” Wylan sounded so sad.

Did… did he think he _deserved_ it? Jesper pulled back and forced a smile. “Hey, I’ve lived with you for two weeks, so I feel pretty confident in saying you’re not a serial killer.”

Wylan frowned.

“So no, nothing would justify him trying to kill my favorite merchling.”

“I could tell you why he did it,” he said.

Jesper didn’t like the fear in his voice. He hugged Wylan against him again. “If and when you’re ready to tell me, I’ll be there to listen. But you don’t owe me any explanations.”

Wylan relaxed in his arms and closed his eyes.

Normally this would be a time to tease. It did make Jesper’s heart flutter to have Wylan in his arms. But this wasn’t the right time. He couldn’t flirt so soon after learning Wylan’s father tried to kill him. His merchling didn’t have a happy, luxurious life to return to after all. He’d run to the Barrel fearing for his life.

So Jesper just held him close and wished he could make the pain go away.


	15. The Final Day

“Today’s the day,” Jesper said. “We’re getting out of here.”

Wylan cleaned up the last of their rations and stretched. “It’ll feel good to be out in the fresh air again.”

“For sure.”

On the other hand, he’d miss having Jesper around all the time, but maybe things wouldn’t change completely. There had definitely been a shift in their relationship, and Wylan liked to think they were at least friends.

Possibly more.

Still, going back to a place where his father’s letters could always reach him and he’d have no Jesper to hold him during the night made Wylan feel small and scared. He took a deep breath. He’d managed before. He’d be fine.

A sharp rap at the door made Jesper cheer, and he opened it to reveal the same _stadwatch_ officer who had first told them about their quarantine.

“It’s been fourteen days,” he said. “You’re free to go out. Just make sure you don’t leave your homes for anything that isn’t essential.”

Wylan and Jesper exchanged glances.

“Wait,” Jesper said, “what do you mean?”

“This is a precaution until the plague is gone. Everyone needs to stay at home as much as possible. You can leave for essential business now that you’re not quarantined, but you shouldn’t be out on the streets for any other reason. We hope to have this taken care of shortly.”

So… it wasn’t really over?

In stunned silence, Wylan and Jesper left together. For a while, they walked back toward home without a word.

Jesper broke the silence first. “If this is being enforced, Kaz must be furious.”

“Are you going to obey the restrictions?” Wylan asked.

“Will you be mad at me if I don’t?”

“Maybe.” He ducked his head. “I mean, they must be doing it for a reason, and I don’t want you to put yourself in danger…”

“Aw, you care that much?” Jesper smirked. “Guess I’ll listen—I wouldn’t want to worry my merchling.”

Wylan blushed.

“At least we get to go home now,” Jesper said.

“Right.” Wylan glanced away and hesitated. Should he say what was on his mind? He had to. The words sounded strange and awkward coming out, but he couldn’t keep them to himself. “It… It’ll feel strange to be alone after all this time, though.”

“Yeah.”

“It was nice,” he said. “Having you around, I mean.”

“Same. I never knew how reliable a merchling could be,” Jesper said. “You kept me on the straight and narrow.”

“You kept me entertained.”

“You kept your clothes on, much to my disappointment.”

Wylan elbowed him, but couldn’t keep from laughing.

His laughter cut through the eerie silence that filled the once-busy city, and he stopped. The streets were as empty and still as those of a ghost town. Beside him, Jesper shivered, and Wylan remembered his paranoid fear that everyone else might have died.

“Things will go back to normal,” he said softly.

“How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?”

“I guess I’ve gotten to know you pretty well,” he said.

“Living together will do that.” Jesper glanced at him. “So, uh… is that a good thing? Do you like who you’ve gotten to know?”

Wylan nodded.

“Me too. In the past, I might have said some things that… well…” Jesper rubbed the back of his neck. “What I’m trying to say is I’m sorry if I said anything that hurt you. I made some assumptions about you that I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay,” Wylan said. “I probably did the same thing when we first met.”

Jesper snickered. “You were scared to death of me, weren’t you?”

“No!”

“Liar.”

“You’re making assumptions again,” Wylan said with a pout.

“Fine, then in that case… your first impression of me must have been how incredibly handsome and sexy I am. Is that better?”

He blushed furiously.

“Wait, _was_ it?” Jesper stared at him. “Was that really it?”

“L-Let’s just drop it!”

Jesper laughed and raised his eyebrows with a low whistle, but he didn’t press the point.

They walked together in companionable silence until at last they reached the point where Wylan had walked many times to reach his room in the Barrel and Jesper had done the same. From there, they would have to part ways to go home.

They stopped at the same time and stood there for a moment. Neither of them moved.

“So,” Jesper said at last, wrapping his arm around Wylan’s shoulders, “which will it be? My place, or your place?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know - Wylan still hasn't trusted him with the full truth and they're still dancing around their feelings for each other! When I started writing this story, I wanted it to end on an ambiguously canon compliant note. Their relationship has changed a lot, but the rest of the canon plot events could conceivably play out.
> 
> And that's why I've been considering a sequel, a story that would pick up after the end of this one now that they've decided to stay together and diverge more completely from canon as they grow closer. Ideas for it are still in the works, but it's a possibility.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the story, and let me know if you'd be interested in that sequel!


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